Category: autoimmune disorder
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My view from under these covers.
Today, I woke up at 4 a.m. with a fever, that Heat Miser yet Snow Miser feeling of crawling out of your own skin where you trip over everything in the dark just to make it to the bottle of Motrin. I knew right away what was happening: this is my autoimmune body saying, Please, I am…
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The voices I hear in your head.
Fortunately for me, it’s really trendy right now to admit that you’re a mess. All you have to do is look around this blog or Google my name and you’ll see that I’m a mess. For instance, this blog can’t decide whether to tell you I’m sick, I’m an addict’s daughter, or that I’ve lost…
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Here’s why my sickness means I need help getting a new smile.
When I was 16, doctors told me I was sick. Honestly, I felt relieved to receive a diagnosis. After years of poking and prodding, doctors diagnosed me with an autoimmune disorder called Sjögren’s. It took years to figure out because it’s most common for women in their 60s. Today, I am 26 years old. And today –…
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The Story of a Pretty Girl.
Dear Grief, I didn’t expect to meet you in the dentist’s chair. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl,” the fifth, maybe sixth, dentist said. “But those teeth…” Smiles poke my attention now, hitting a nerve with every passing 80-year-old woman with pearly whites. Are they real? Dentures? Crowns? Did it hurt? You wait for me, every day,…
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Fiction.
At a recent writing workshop, the author suggested that if you don’t want to write about yourself then you simply write about yourself and call it fiction. Apparently it’s a common practice of many authors. There once was a girl who discovered at a young age that she was chronically ill. Of course, the idea…
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Silence.
The passing of time sometimes means that life is easier if I just forget about it for a while. Sometimes, I just don’t want to think about Sjögren’s. After all, the life of putting on a smile can be quite fulfilling for a while. Doctors’ appointments come about once every six months for check-ups, so…
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Mine.
We all desire to find our place to belong. Starting as a young child, we try to make friends by sharing our chocolate chip cookies at the lunch table. We try out for soccer teams and give Girls Scouts a chance just so that we can be part of something. Some of us flourish in…
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Fat Face.
Here is an excerpt from my memoir: “What is that? What is wrong with you?” They all just stared. The first time it happened, we were at the lake and I remember lying on the sofa with my right cheek on the pillow. My whole family circled around me, all faces hovering above with eyes…
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Fog.
If they catch me in the bathroom at work, I might give away a little piece of my Sjögren’s secret. “Oh, no…” they say. “Did your contact fall out?” I’m scrubbing away at the white film that builds up on the bottom half of my contacts, so I can’t really see them as they are…
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Feel Good.
There’s this picture frame that I hung up on my wall at work. It’s right by my computer screen, so I catch myself staring at it a lot. It’s simply three rectangular frames strung together by ribbon. It’s bright and cheery orange with polka dots and flowers and bright blue ribbon that loops at the…
Ashley Fenker 